A New Found Grace
by dont-let-him-take-you-from-me
Summary: Stefan is a guy who lost the only two people he's ever cared about: his wife, and his brother. He starts thinking he has nothing left so he drinks himself into oblivion every night until one night he stumbles into a bar and hears her voice- a voice that changes his entire world. Stelena AU
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: This a lovely story I had the pleasure of writing with Iva: my best friend, my bby, my big sis aka Flowing Latern. This is something we've been working on for awhile now and hope you enjoy it! This originally started as a Tumblr AU prompt but turned into so much more then that. Please review and rateand tell us if you like it, it would mean a lot!**_

_**Stefan's P.O.V**_

I'm walking down the street after a long day at work, I'm tired and I don't ever want to think about repairing cars anymore, I don't even want to drive, which is why I preferred walking all the way downtown and grab something to drink. I was sad, miserably actually and I wanted to forget all about losing my brother. I was afraid that by the end of the evening I'll either end up at our relatively big house by myself and collapse on the front porch, only so that Lexi, my best friend would pick me back from the ground and drag me to bed or help me get sober, or I'll go to the cemetery and cry my eyes out. I was betting on the second one, since it hasn't happened even once this week.

Lately I don't even feel the guilt, it's all about the emptiness that consumes me and how hard I'm trying to drown myself into it. Lexi says that I need to start moving on, but I can't. More importantly-I don't want to. He was my brother for God's sake and I wasn't there when he needed me-I deserved to suffer. I deserved to die even.

But I couldn't-I was in perfect health, well maybe except my liver, which was probably gonna give up on me with the rapid speed I was consuming whatever alcohol they were offering in the bars. Almost all the owners knew me by now-I've gone to different places every evening, but at some point, after a month or so I started repeating them, there weren't that many places in the town I was living in and well half of them had to call the police and kick me out of there, because I was causing troubles. Which is why I guess I was heading to the place where Lexi was working tonight-she said it might be a good idea for me since there would be some life music. She had no idea music only made me sad. I would always remember Damon playing on his black guitar on our front porch when I was still a kid and how much it calmed me down-but now he wasn't here and I was all alone. I was pretty sure that I'll be alone for the rest of my life.

I push the heavy wooden door as I let myself in. It's already way too loud and I almost regret coming, but at least I'll get to lose myself and drown in my own personal misery, because I knew well enough that I didn't want to dream of my dying brother that night as well. I would most probably wake up yelling and in sweat as I did every time. That or I'll think about Katherine and how she cheated on me-either one is awful enough.

-Stefan!- Lexi yells at me and I head to the bar. She immediately furrows her eyebrows when she sees my usual desperate expression and my partly, still greasy from working at the mechanic shop hands-You could have put on a clean shirt at least-she scolds me and I shrug my shoulders, not even slightly bothered by it. I didn't care. It's now like I was about to meet anyone here-I was a lost soul and girls don't like greasy working all day long mechanics. I guess that's part of the reason why Katherine cheated on my-I was doing it all right, I was playing by the rules, I was working hard and she didn't want that-she wanted to live in luxury and spent money on purses and shoes, while I was trying to pay the rent or the electricity bill. We were never a match, I don't even know how it all happened.

-Pour me a drink-I beg Lexi and she's about to start scolding me, before I interrupt her-If you don't, I'll just go to another place-I warned and she sighed defeated, because she knew well enough that I won this time-she didn't want to let me go, preferred to keep me close to herself so I wouldn't get into a fight or drink myself to oblivion.

She slides the bourbon to me and I drink it all at once, nodding to her to pour me another glass. She furrows her eyebrow but does it anyway as she tries to make small talk about how my day was and how am I feeling, but I just respond vaguely because I don't want to talk about it and she knows how hard I'm avoiding the subject.

-Stefan, please-she puts her hand on mine-It's been more than a month already, you have to get yourself together.

-I'm fine-I respond harshly as I pull away from her and take another sip from my bourbon.

-You're not! You're just lying to yourself and everyone else and if you keep going that way, God knows where you'll end up.

-Save me the speech, Lexi, will you? I'm not in the mood right now-I glance at the stage where I see some people fixing up the mic and explaining something to the person who has just sit on the chair in the middle of the improvised stage.

-You're killing yourself- Lexi raises her voice and for a moment my attention is brought back to her-And I'm not gonna watch this much longer.

-Well then don't!-I'm getting too tired of this. She keeps nagging at me every night she comes to save me from myself, but the thing is I don't want her to-she has to go on with her life and forget about me. I'm nothing but a mess, headed nowhere, with no future, with a dead brother and a girl who didn't love him enough to stay.

I drink another glass and stare down at the bar. Lexi is talking something to me again, but I'm not listening. I close my eyes as I try to remember the last good thing that happened to me and almost wish to cry when I can't recall anything.

That is until I hear a guitar playing, the strings are gently waking me up and I unintentionally look at the stage. My breath gets stuck in my throat when I see her-a girl with a hazelnut hair and deep brown eyes is looking away uncomfortably as she pulls the strings of her black guitar. Dressed in nothing but jeans and a nice red plaid shirt which gives her a bit of a cowboy look, she steals another beat of my wrecked heart.

I feel the tears in my eyes as I hear her voice and I move away from the bar so I could get a better look at her. I swear this is the first time in months when I can hear every beat my heart is making-I watch her skinny pale hands pull the strings.

And there isn't enough air in the room to help catch my breath.

_**Elena's P.O.V**_

I push open the metal back door of the bar I'm going to be playing at this week. I'm so nervous I can feel my heart beating fast against my chest. I swallow and close my eyes, walking in, carrying a black guitar case. The room is small, maybe a few inches bigger then my studio apartment, I follow the sign to the warm up room, walking in my combat boots. It took me forever to get ready but I finally decided on a red plaid shirt and a dark acid washed jeans with combat boots. Simple but says "I'm going to rock your socks off L.A." I usually wasn't the nervous type. The thought of playing in front of a live audience turns my legs into jelly. Sure, this wasn't a show and I didn't have any adoring fans but it was a gig, a promising start my dad would of said.

I started playing guitar when I was 11, my dad taught me everything I know. He used to be apart of an underrated band called "The Spikes". My mom, a writer didn't approve of me learning to play in the beginning but she never once didn't support me in it. They pitched in: guitar lessons, voice lessons, they did whatever loving parents did: they supported their child. Guitar was always my passion, music just came second nature to me. Music also helped me deal with their tragic death, a car accident. I was only thirteen. My brother Jeremy who was 11 and I at the time moved in with my aunt Jenna, my mom's sister. She supported my guitar too and payed for me to finish my lessons. This gig was for my parents, I was doing this for them tonight, in remembrance of them. My parents death affected me in ways I could not even explain to you. I used to be socially balanced, I had a great boyfriend, great friends, cheerleader, straight A student, everyone loved me, but once I lost my parents I realized none of those things mattered anymore, I started pushing every one away, that's why I moved to L.A after accepting a degree in music theroy after high school. To get away from everyone, the forget all the memories of my deceased parents. It hurt less not to care I realized as time went on. Why should I care? It's not like anyone cares for me, everyone leaves in the end. Love does not exist in my world. Breathe, eat, sleep, wake up, and do it all over again until one day it's not as hard anymore. That was my motto and I was sticking to it.

A knock on the door interrupted my ongoing thoughts.

I knew it was time.

"Their ready for you out there, Elena."

"Okay, thanks."

I calm my shaking hands and strap my guitar on, walking out the door.

This is it Gilbert, you either make it or break.

I walk out on to the stage when they say my name, I'm instantly blinded by the lights and awkwardly sit on the stool. I get my guitar and laugh nervously, hoping no one notices how petrified I am.

I close my eyes and begin picking at the strings.

As soon as I play, I relax.

I begin to sing:

**Would you know my name**

**If I saw you in heaven?**

**Would it be the same**

**If I saw you in heaven?**

**I must be strong**

**And carry on,**

**'Cause I know I don't belong**

**Here in heaven.**

**Would you hold my hand**

**If I saw you in heaven?**

**Would you help me stand**

**If I saw you in heaven?**

**I'll find my way**

**Through night and day,**

**'Cause I know I just can't stay**

**Here in heaven.**

**Time can bring you down,**

**Time can bend your knees.**

**Time can break your heart,**

**Have you begging please, begging please.**

**Beyond the door,**

**There's peace I'm sure,**

**And I know there'll be no more**

**Tears in heaven.**

**Would you know my name**

**If I saw you in heaven?**

**Would it be the same**

**If I saw you in heaven?**

**I must be strong**

**And carry on,**

**'Cause I know I don't belong**

**Here in heaven.**

As I sing images of my parents flood my mind, the way my dad would pick me up from school randomly and have lunch with me begging to know about my recent boy troubles, my mom in her tan dress every summer, laughing as we lit up the fireworks, my father in our cruddy basement, teaching me the different strings on a guitar.

I feel a tear trickle down my cheek, oh what I would give to have them here with me right now. My eyelashes flutter open and I see a boy with dark brown hair and green eyes staring at me in awe. I give him a look and then look away, wondering why he's staring at me so intently. I'm nothing special. I finish my song and wipe the tears from my eyes, standing up. Applause erupts the room and I smile, wide.

"Thank you!." I say, taking a bow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Stefan's POV**

She hurries to leave the stage, she seems to be overly emotional right now, but I don't take this under consideration when I decide to follow her. She disappears behind a black door just after she has hopped off the stage and I rush after her. I don't feel bad even after I've drank so many glasses, I think I've built a resistance by now, it's been months since I've been drinking myself to oblivion and not even an entire bottle would make me forget everything going on my mind-but she did. Her song awoke me and I wanted her to know that-there was this urge inside me, making me desperate to just speak those simple words out loud-she seemed so insecure in herself, so small and vulnerable.

I push the door open and I realize that this one is just leading me to a small hallway at the end of which there's the back entrance and she's already leaving or at least she's taking a break until coming back inside, but I don't want to take any chances so I follow her, I need to see her.

-Hey!-I yell at her just as I open the door and see her a few feet away from me, she turns around abruptly and her hair swings along with her, making it hard for me to comprehend my thoughts-she's so damn beautiful.-Wait!-I beg again just as she's about to turn around and continue going her way, she thought I was some drunk and she got scared, I think.

She doesn't stop, on the contrary, she continues walking, faster than before, so I have to run and block her way, in order to make her listen to me. I don't know where the sudden urge for me to talk to her came, but I know it feels right deep inside. And I haven't felt right in ages.

-What do you want?-she says through teeth, obviously afraid of me and with every right, I look like a homeless idiot, with my dirty greased shirt, my washed out jeans, my very messy blond hair and I stinking like bourbon-I was probably scaring the hell out of her.

-Please, I won't do anything to you, I promise-I lift my hands before me in a defensive way, but she still takes a step back, she doesn't believe and it makes me sad-I've become a monster, who scares everyone away. The thought breaks something in me, I look down at me feet ashamed and let my hands down, hiding them shamefully behind me back.-I'm sorry if I scared you-I continue and when I looked up at her, I see how tight she's holding on to her black guitar case, as if she's ready to hit me with it if I try doing something stupid. When she sees the look on my face, however, her expression changes from fear to curiosity, she's probably wondering WHAT ON EARTH is wrong with me-I just wanted to tell you that your performance was amazing-I stutter now, finding it hard to pick the right words-And I-I-I rub the back of my head nervously and she watches me intently, furrowing her eyebrows yet again. I probably look like some kind of creeper-I just wanted you to know that you completely broke me with it-I let the words spill, not thinking clearly about it at all, which is a mistake and I know it-It was so genuinely beautiful and sad and you completely blew me away.-I admit and she finally allows herself to grant me a

-I'm glad you enjoyed it-she responded barely audible and once again I realized how sweet her voice was, it almost made my heart ache with pain from the fact that I will never be worthy of a girl like her.-I really…tried to give my best-she added shyly

-Only someone who went through hell can sing like that-I spoke my thoughts out loud and she gave me a curious look, probably because I was right and she was surprised that a boy in a greasy white shirt, looking like a creeper in the middle of a beautiful summer night, can be right.

She nodded sadly, probably reminded of whatever it was that happened to her, and gave me another weak smile

-I should go-she stated with certainty now. She knew I wouldn't hurt her, but that didn't mean that she still wasn't scared of me, even now-I mean she didn't know me. I was just some guy who followed her outside when the only thing she wanted was to disappear, after pouring her soul out on this stage.

I feel her passing by my and I turn around, not even knowing what I'm doing anymore, but I hear myself speaking up.

-Would you maybe-I begin and she turns towards me again, probably feeling really sick of my by this point-Want to grab a coffee with me one day?-I ask and she let a small chuckle out, making me feel like the biggest fool on this planet. What was I thinking? Of course she wouldn't want that, I looked like I just got out of some dumpster and she…I looked at her and all I could see was an angel. She was so beautiful.

-I don't even know your name-she says as she shrugs her shoulders and stretches her hands a little-she thought I was insane. I try to take a step forward, but I stagger just a little bit, maybe because even if I don't really feel like it, I am drunk. She sees this and I guess in a way it either disgusts her and pushes her even further away from me

-I'm Stefan-I don't even know why I'm saying it, I can see her taking another step back and I look like the biggest fool on earth.

-I think you should go home, Stefan-she says with a sad smile, now she's pitying me and I suddenly my bad mood comes back-I can feel the resentment and hatred I've been feeling for the past few months crawl back in, as well as the guilt and the desperation and I know that it won't be long until I end up back in the bar, trying to barely catch my breath in between another glass of bourbon.

I'm a wreck and a fool. A girl like her could never like a guy like me.

I nod sadly, more to myself than to her, turn around and head back inside. My hands clenched in fists, I'm burning up with anger. I hated my life and it's no lie that I wanted it to end already-everything was way too much for me-I've seen enough. I have been fighting like hell all those years, I was parent-less, brother less-I had to watch Damon die in my hands, I didn't have a life or a kid to care for. Only a golden retriever back in my Boarding House, who was probably barking right now because he was hungry. I lost all my friends when I lost my brother-I became unbearable. There wasn't anyone else besides Lexi to take care of me or to even want to listen to me. And I knew well enough she would give up soon as well.

I get back inside, forgetting all about the girl with the beautiful hazelnut hair, she will get in her car and leave, she'll wake up tomorrow, not wishing to have died instead like I feel every morning.

I notice Lexi talking to a guy at the bar, who was obviously being annoying. I saw her furrowing her eyebrows and telling him off, but just as she turned around to pour another drunk, he grabbed her wrist, she dropped the glass and it shattered on the floor and she gasped afraid from his strong hand on her tiny weak wrist.

I clenched my fists and smiled to myself-it was time to get my ass kicked. This guy was strong, tough, he surely worked out-if I let him maybe he would even break me a rib or something and I might skip work tomorrow. Or maybe…maybe just this once I'll feel something different that the guilt that consumes me every night.

Who am I kidding? This was just another way for me to forget about it all, just another way of killing myself, different from the alcohol I drank so willingly and welcomed up with opened arms.

I pat him on the shoulder and when he turns around I don't hesitate to hit him in the face. He lets Lexi go and jumps from the chair he's sitting on.

_**Elena's POV**_

I see the stage manger, nod at me and I know what that means: another act. I hurried off the stage, feeling giddy over all of the applause, maybe I really had knocked the socks of L.A tonight. I smiled a little, opening the black door, backstage and stepping through it. Suddenly, a chill runs through my spine and I shudder, I use my peripheral vision to look behind me and see a guy in a greasy shirt and pants, following me. I turn around a little to get a better look- It was the guy from my performance! Why was he following me? What is going on? I wonder, and walk a little faster, hoping to lose him. I could tell he was drunk, stumbling and trying to catch me. "Hey!." He shouts, trying to walk faster. I try to walk faster but suddenly he is right in front of me, his green eyes staring into mine. I tell myself not to yelp, but I feel the panic set into me. "What do you want?" I say through my teeth, trying not to panic at the same time. Now that he is close, I catch a whiff of bourbon on him,

Yep, definitely drunk.

"Please, I won't do anything to you, I promise."

He lifts his hands up to show me he's innocent but I'm not quite so trusting. I take a step back for caution.

I see his face fall into a grimace. Which scares me more.

He looks down at his feet, holding his hands behind his back.

"I'm sorry if I scared you."

He eyes my black guitar case which I didn't even know I was clutching in my hand.

I look at him curiously, what did he want with me? Why follow me back all the way here?

"I wanted to tell you your performance was amazing. I-I- he starts to stutter and I look up at him curious again.

He rubs the back of his head nervously with one hand, avoiding my gaze. I stare at him intently waiting for him to finish.

"I probably look like some kind of creeper, I just wanted you to know you completely broke me with it. It was so genuinely beautiful and sad and you blew me away with it." He finishes the sentence so fast and I'm wondering why he's so nervous around me.

I stare at him blankly.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." I whisper.

"I really tried to give my best." I added, a little shy.

All I can think in my mind is how nice it was of him to complement me, even though he was drunk, you got to start somewhere, I suppose.

What he says next, completely blows me away.

"Only people who've been through hell can sing like that."

My parents.

I nod my head, still looking curiously at him.

He didn't even know me, my story, what I've been through, how could he possibly know that?

I allowed myself to give him a weak smile, still thinking of my parents. I know up in heaven they were smiling down at me, and that they are proud, but that didn't stop my heart from clenching in despair.

I had to get out of here before I cried in front of a complete stranger, a drunk stranger, what was my life coming to?

"I should go." I say, certain.

He doesn't say anything, except give me a sad smile.

I start to pass by him.

"Would you.." He starts to say but stops.

I turn around, glancing at him, waiting for him to finish.

"Want to grab a coffee with me one day?" He asks me.

I chuckled softly, wow was I really so pathetic that a drunk guy had to ask me out.

I shrug my shoulders gently, bending my arm.

"I don't even know your name." I say.

He tries to take a step forward but stumbles.

I'm feeling more bad about myself by the second.

I take a step back.

"I'm Stefan." He says.

Stefan? What kind of name was that? Maybe he was Italian decent.

I smile small, allowing him that.

"I think you should go home, Stefan." I say in a gentle tone. I feel sorry for this guy I think. I don't know why but I do. I know he doesn't want my pity and I don't think he wants to deal with me, I'm worse. I'm just a girl with dead parents and a guitar. My boyfriend dumped me after my parents died: claiming I was always crying and I never spent enough time with it, he was a harsh jerk, that's what I swore off boys forever, all boys were the same, sweet in the beginning, total jerks in the end. I can barely take care of myself at 20 how am I supposed to be in a relationship. I'm too messed up for a relationship it's better to just not care, don't fall in love, love is so fickle. I remind myself.

I think he notices the sad expression on my face and mistakes it for pity, I don't have the heart to tell him it's wrong, because all he's done is conjured old memories in me that I never wanted to deal with. I have to get out of here, I remind myself.

He nods sadly at me and begins to walk into the bar, I watch him walk away. As soon as he closes the door behind him, I pick up my guitar case and start to leave, it's not until I hear a loud crash that I pick my guitar case up again, walking into the bar to investigate the scene. I see the bartender, trying to get Stefan off a guy. I rush into the room panicking.

"Oh my god." I say and I see Stefan turning around and looking at me.

Chills rush through my body as the guy, stands up and gets in Stefan's face, I see his nose is bleeding, Stefan must of punched him. I swallow and try to calm down. I hear glass breaking and see Stefan was rammed into the liquor cabinet, his back, cut up from the glass.

"Stop!" I yell at the man, he ignores me, beating Stefan up.

I see Stefan's face is a bloody mess.

I grab my guitar case and hit the man over the head with it, surprisingly he goes down in one giant thud.

I stare at Stefan, angry. I don't care if he was drunk, you don't start a bar fight.

"Why did you do that?" I yell.

He's silent, probably not even aware of his surroundings.

I ignore his attempted talk and look at the bartender.

"I'm off work." she says with a huff and throws in her apron, walking out of the bar.

I see Stefan faces go to anger to extreme sadness.

My hands shake as I put my guitar case down.

"You didn't need to do that, I could of handled it." he says, gruffly.

"Oh sure, get yourself killed." I say sarcastically.

He whips around to face.

"Why do you even care?" He yells.

"I don't." I say.

"Then why are you here."

"I'm a good person." is my simple answer, I would help out anyone even this drunk fool I just met.

He doesn't question it and stands up, a bloody mess.

"wait here." I say and go behind the bar, finding a couple of washcloths, I dunk them in the scalding water, and walk over to Stefan.

"For your cuts." I say and hand them to him.

He takes one and tries to put it on his cuts, I see he's struggling.

Sometimes I really hated my compassion.

I yank the washcloth from his hand and press them against his cuts.

He groans in pain at first but then his face begins to relax.

Up close to him, I see he is tiny freckles. I continue to clean his cuts, cursing him for doing this to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Stefan's POV  
"Leave my friend alone!" I yell as I punch him in the face. All the alcohol I drank is now helping me set my anger free and deal with this guy. He pushes me back and I hear Lexi yell from behind the bar. The fights usually drive all the people away, not that there were many left out there, it was three in the morning and the only ones remaining were drunken idiots like me, who didn't have a life.  
I was hoping that Lexi's boss wasn't around, cause I didn't want her to get fired. I see her trying to push the other guy from me, because we're already on the floor and he's punching me in the face, but someone pulls her back, probably for her own safety and I fail to even get a glimpse from her again. The guy is very tough, he picks me up and I realize he's yelling at me, but I'm not making any sense of the words. All I could think of is my brother on his dead bed, begging me not to grief him too long after he's gone. But the truth is-I got completely broken the day they called me to tell me he collapsed while at work.  
I rushed to his place, I haven't seen him in the past week and as a whole he's been avoiding me, for no apparent reason. He's been pushing me away, he's been yelling at me, telling me he doesn't want to see me and only when we ended up in the emergencyROOM , I realized why he was doing this-he wanted to protect me. And I was stupid enough not to see it! I blamed myself for all those times I went by his house and begged him to and see a game and fail to notice his pale face or the big circles under his eyes. What kind of a brother was I? How could I not know that he's sick! That he's dying? The doctor told me that he thought I knew by now-Damon has promised to tell, but he never did, because he didn't want me to be happy and not burden myself with his disease.  
Where are you now Damon? Can you see me? Do you think I'm happy brother? Are you proud of me? Or do you hate everything I do with burning passion just like all my friends?  
Maybe one of these nights I'll get into a bigger fight and lose consciousness, maybe I'll give up on life and end up with you? Or maybe I'll get so drunk one day that I'll get into my old truck and drive away into the night and never come back home? Would it be so bad?  
They guy puts me down and hits me a few times in the stomach which makes me angry and gets me back to reality. I smile at him and he cocks his eyebrow wonderingWHAT ON EARTH is wrong with me and why am I not fighting back.  
"Come on, fat ass" I say "Is that all you got?" I feel Lexi's hands, this time on my back, but I shake her off and grunt at her to leave me-she would only get hurt if she remains close to us and I don't want that so I try to push her away from here as gently as I can. The other guy punches me again and I hear someone opening the back door again.  
"Oh my God!" I hear her voice. I can recognize her voice anywhere and I've only talked to her once. It's so sweet, so different-it's calming and it makes me even smile for a moment. I turn around and look at her, the moment our eyes meet, she gasps and I see her hand move to her mouth. She's suddenly feeling scared, maybe because she managed to take a look at the other guy, whose nose is bleeding after the only time I punched him, only so I could start this thing.  
I'm so consumed by her presence that I fail to realize when the guy has gotten even angrier than before, simply because I'm not even fighting him though I was the one who started this thing. He raises me up again and tosses me to the liquor cabinet behind me. I close my eyes and I fail to catch my breath when I feel the glasses cut my back and get stuck in there. I can feel the blood coming down my back and refuse to open up my eyes.  
"Stop!" I hear her yelling again and I wonder why is she even bothering with me. She cut me off already, she should've just left. I had no idea why does she even bother to come and try to stop this -I wanted to get my ass beaten, I was glad that my back was bruised and that my ribs hurt already-pain was good. It took my mind off things. And even if I ended up in the emergency room, they gave me painkillers.  
Painkillers were good, cause they gave me more time to sleep and these days I couldn't get more than four hours at best. The guy continue beating me up even after that and at the distance, I can distinguish the beautiful girl, gasping in surprise from all his actions. She seems to naive and innocent-she can't believe one human being is doing this to another.  
And the moment I think this, she proves me wrong, picking up her guitar case and hitting the guy on the head with it. My hurt jaw, hangs open for a slight moment as I watch her there and I realize what an idiot I am-she's not weak, she's a bad ass girl. She's probably been through hell and back and she thought how to protect herself.  
And right now she was protecting me. Which is something she shouldn't be doing, because I could take care of myself-I just didn't want to. I also didn't want any pity or her help-she has just cut me off when we were outside, God knows what she was thinking about me, but it certainly wasn't anything positive, especially not after this.

She throws me an angry glance, out of some reason, she's angry with me and what I've done, but she doesn't give a damn that I'm drunk-I can see it in her eyes, she thinks I shouldn't have started this.  
"Why did you do that?" she yells in my direction and I look around myself confused, starting at the guy on the floor and the broken glass around me, the bigger part of it, still stuck in my back. The pain and the alcohol make me delusional and for a moment I don't ever make sense of where I am until a very angry Lexi throws her apron on the bar, walking through the door behind her which would lead her outside, yelling that she's off work. I'm thinking how right I was-she would give up on me, it was inevitable. You could only care about someone who's trying to destroy themselves so much. She had her own life as well and she didn't have to deal with an idiot like me every other evening.  
The anger and confusion I've been feeling are replaced by sadness, once I realize how alone I am yet again. I take a look at her and notice her putting the guitar case down with shaky hands-she might've been badass, but we surely scared her off. And I hated myself for it.  
"You didn't need to do that, I could've handled it" I say angrily, realizing how hard it is for me to make at least a decent sentence. My voice is hoarse and my back hurts like hell, I also feel a distant pain in my ankle, but I don't pay any attention to it and try to cover the pain I'm feeling with anger.  
"Oh, sure get yourself killed" she says sarcastically but she has no idea how right she is and that's another thing that hits me-she doesn't know I don't want to live this life anymore, that I don't find any sense in it. I'm angry-at her, at the world for taking my brother away, I'm angry for being alone, I'm angry that she think I'm just a greasy drunken guy who has no other purpose but to fight with people-and who is there to blame her? Certainly not me. I know that, I realize it, yet I feel the anger build up in me.  
"Why do you even care?" I move my head abruptly towards her as I clench my jaw, because the cuts on my back are killing me. Yet that's what I always wanted from the start-for pain to consume me. But now the problem was-it was turning into anger. She did not deserve my burst outs, but she shouldn't be here either-it was dangerous. Yes the bar was mostly empty by now with the exception of a few people collapsed somewhere in the corners, I didn't know if there was anyone left at all this time. But sometimes there were idiots like the one on the floor who picked up on girls, and I didn't want anything bad to happen to her.  
"I don't" she responds harshly as well and I feel even worse than a minute ago.  
"Then why are you here?" I ask the logical question and I see her shrug her shoulders, which makes me furrow my eyebrows as I get more confused with her by the second. What is with this girl? She seems so different than anyone else I knew. She first cut me off when we were outside and I asked her, yes foolishly, to go out with me and now she's here, helping me out.  
"I'm a good person" she gives me a simple answer and I feel my anger disappear, she is a good person, she's a damn good person and she didn't deserve my cold attitude  
"I would help anyone, even a drunken fool I just met" she adds and her words almost make me laugh, but then the pain in my back announces its presence again and I wince from it-she notices it and I see the sadness in her eyes once again.  
"Wait here" she furrows her eyebrows again and I think of how sweet she is when she's angry. She goes behind the bar and grabs a couple of washcloths, dunks them in the water and comes over me. She kneels and hands it to me  
"For your cuts" she explains, probably trying to make the silence surrounding us less uncomfortable, I take it and try to sooth the pain on my back, however unsuccessfully since I can't see exactly where they are, I guess I look really pathetic because she yanks it off my hand and makes it her mission to help me feel better. She slightly moves my dirty shirt and applies pressure on the cuts. I groan in pain and bury my face in my hands, feeling the blood there as well, which makes me curse  
"Goddammit" I spit out and she gives me another compassionate look as she moves the washcloth to my face  
"Close your eyes, dumbass" she orders and I'm about to chuckle when I feel her cleaning the blood away. My nose however keeps bleeding and she picks up a couple of napkins from the closest table and orders me to stick them in my nostrils. I'm sure that I look pathetic, but she doesn't make fun of me. Instead she grabs my hand and helps me stand up, even if I don't want her to. I feel worse than before, because I'm letting a girl help me-I can't even begin to understand what a compassionate soul she is, if she has the patience to deal with an ass like me.  
Once I'm up, however, I try to take a step forward, but I stagger and I would've fell if she hasn't been there to catch my hand  
"Ugh" I grunt unpleasantly as I look down at my right foot-I feel a sharp pain in my ankle and she takes a moment to realize that me not being able to walk normally isn't because I'm drunk. I actually feel way too sober for my own good now and I'm afraid, I'll lash out at her when she doesn't deserve it. Her gentle grip on my elbow keeps me elevated, but I feel worse with every passing minute, I don't let her know that of course, I'm never gonna let her know if I feel weak, even if she was brushing my bloody face just a minute ago  
She leans down and pulls up my pant leg only to let a slight gasp and shake her head  
"Well this is way too swollen" she says, concern evident in her voice as she looks up back at me-You must've sprained it.  
"I'm fine" I say through teeth as I pull away from her and try to make another step forward-she did enough, she shouldn't be anywhere near a person like me. However, I stagger again, the pain is way too much even for me to swallow, but I manage to grip the end of one of the nearest tables and keep myself standing.  
"You're not." she crosses her hands on her chest "We need to get you to a doctor."  
"No way" I start limping to the front door "I don't need any doctors. And you should go home, it's late" I say in a caring way, not because I want to get rid of her, on the contrary-I want to get to know her better, but she already pushed me once and I don't want to keep pressuring her. I'm not that type of guy. I stagger to the next table and find someone else's unfinished beer so I decide to take a sip, until she yanks it off my hand  
"Seriously?" she puts it on another table, as far away from me as possible. "You can't walk straight and want to drink right now?" she judges me and her angry expression makes me smile again, which one the other hand pisses her off.  
"It will help me with the pain." I try to explain in order to calm her down as I begin limping to the door again. She hurries by my side and grabs my arm "I'm fine" I try to explain again, but she doesn't give up  
"When will you stop saying that? And we should really go to some hospital, your eye has swollen as well" she notices though I don't need her telling me, I'm not able to open it up completely already so I decided to just close it.  
"I don't need hospitals. All the emergency rooms know me by name already" I exclaim irritated, not with her, though, I'm still angry at myself and the fact that I'm letting her deal with me right now "I hate doctors."  
"Then you should at least let me drive you home." she suggests when we finally get in front of the bar after minutes of me trying to limp my way out of it  
"No" I cut her off way too harsh and she gives me a confused look "I don't want to go home" I say it with disgust, but the truth is that I'm afraid to get back to the empty boarding house, especially not when I'm already sober-I won't fall asleep and even if I did, I will only torture myself with painful nightmares.  
I'm in too much pain to fall in the first place-the cuts on my back has blooded my shirt on the back-I'm dirty and greasy, I smell like a homeless idiot and yet she's not even slightly disturbed by it, or at least she's not showing it. I know I'm not presentable to go to any place, but I decide I should give it a try once again and after a minute of uncomfortable silence between us, silence in which we're wondering what to do next  
"There's a small diner just around the corner" I suggest and I give her a hopeful look "Let me repay you for taking care of me" I offer and I feel the rejection in her eyes yet again, which pains me so much more than any wound could  
"That is, if you're not ashamed to get in there with me looking like that." I smile and she does as well, which makes me relax just a little bit-I promise, I'm not some creep, I just want to apologize for being so rude earlier. I know you only wanted to help me.  
"Okay" she finally agrees and grabs my hand as she helps me start walking down the street. Every five feet, I stop and take a deep breath, because the pain is too much and she gives me sympathetic looks, probably mentally scolding me for not agreeing to going to the doctor, but I don't pay attention to that at all-I'm smitten by her. She is just so perfect that it makes it hard for me to breath.  
"I never caught your name, you kind compassionate stranger" I say and she chuckles foolishly like a girl, but in fact I know this is the most beautiful laugh I've ever heard  
"It's Elena" she says shyly while still holding my hand and helping me take another step forward. I stop and look at her-it really suits her, it's such a nice name, but I'm not gonna make that cliché compliment, so I just smile and nod  
"It's nice to meet you, Elena." she seems quite confused by me staring at her like that and I guess I've bothered her to an extent until I feel her hand relax in mine again. We get in the diner and I wave at waitress, who is my friend. As soon as she sees me she shakes her head and sighs, knowing well enough that I've been in a fight. I order us coffee and burgers, because we both realize how hungry we are, and we settle down in one of the corner tables, away from the rest of the people who are awake and trying to sober up in four in the morning.  
"Well she didn't seem surprised to see you like that" Elena states the obvious and I nod as I shrug my shoulders and pick up my first fry. I'm glad she ordered a burger as well, it meant that she wasn't some pretentious skinny girl who would always be careful about what she eats-she was different. And I loved different. Different helped me feel less awkward.  
"I often come here after I've been out drinking all night. They know me good in this neighborhood" I joke about myself, cause I want to make her smile again.  
"Do you work here somewhere?" she asks curiously and I'm glad that she feels like she wants to know more about me, though I guess she's trying hard to avoid talking about her own life, or she's just making small talk, who knows. I doubt there's anything to like about me anyway  
"Yeah" I confirm "I'm a mechanic as you might've guessed" I look down at my greasy shirt and my dirty hands, which I couldn't clean properly even after I've taken a good shower. "A simple guy with a simple work" I explain sadly, but she furrows her eyebrows, disagreeing with me  
"There's no shame in what you're doing. You're earning your living with hard work, I can't imagine why anyone would judge you for that." her comment makes me smile and for the first time after the divorce, I actually feel good about myself. She's the first person, who didn't make me feel bad for being a simple guy with a simple job at the age of twenty five.  
"You, Elena, are wise beyond your years" I state with certainty, even though I have no idea how old exactly she is. She looks as if she's in the beginning of her twenties and that breaks my heart, because there shouldn't be so much sadness in her eyes if she's so young.  
"So I'm told" she responds quite confidently and it's the first time I sense this about her. I'm glad she's surrounded by people who don't fail to remind her how good she is, in whatever it is she's doing besides playing the guitar.  
"What about you, what do you do?" I ask curiously as I take a bite from my burger and she gives me a simple smile, as she looks at herself like she's nothing special, just a regular girl, and I shouldn't get my hopes up. I don't know why a minute ago she was proud of herself and now she seems confused as to how to respond in a way which wouldn't make her work any less significant.  
"Well, I play the gutiar, write music, on the weekends I work at a office, a secretary." I furrow my eyebrows as I try to hide my smile. I don't want to make her feel uncomfortable in any way. She's the first girl who made me feel like myself when I talk to her. But this isINDEED a strange combination. Though who am I to judge-I work on cars all day long and get myself drunk to oblivion while fighting other guys in the meantime.  
"A rock star secretary?" I say with a light smile and she grins as well, probably realizing how ridiculous it all sounds "Never heard of such thing." I am indeed surprised, she doesn't look like a girl who works in an office. But that doesn't mean that it doesn't suit her-she seems quite responsible and caring-she must be working her job with passion.  
I watch her take another bite from her burger and again, this doesn't fail to make me smile-she's so sweet and innocent like this and she even gets some ketchup on her chin, and just as I'm about to stretch my hand and wipe it off, she feels it and clears it out. Maybe for the better-it would've turned our too cliché if I've done it-like on the movies. So stupid. And I didn't want to be cliché with her-I wanted to feel good and real, though I didn't even know I I'll see her again after this.  
"When did you start playing the guitar?" I ask, trying to keep the conversation going, however I notice that my question startles her, and her expression suddenly changes-she gets sad out of nowhere and I curse myself for asking "Sorry if I crossed a line" I add as I see how uncomfortable she is with my question. Really Stefan? Do you have to be such an idiot?  
"No, it's fine" she shakes her head, trying to reassure me everything's alright, though I think she's trying to calm herself down from some awful memory. "I was eleven."  
"Eleven?" I speak up again before thinking twice. I'm just so surprised that she began playing from such a young age. There must've been someone out there to inspire her if she fell in love with this instrument when she wasn't even a teenager. But I don't keep pushing further, since I could see how bad she's feeling already and when I realize that I'm the cause of it, makes me want to punch myself in the face.  
"Wow" I let out impressed, not even sure what this means. I'm such an idiot, I couldn't even get out a decent sentence. I feel too uncomfortable for bringing up a subject that she doesn't like talking about so I'm glad when she decides to speak up again and disrupt the awful silence between us.  
"Music always helped with a lot of things" she lets out vaguely and I wonder what ruined her-it must've been something pretty heavy if it drove her to such a state only in matter of minutes. I wonder what made her suffer like this. Maybe she lost someone as well? I don't know, what I'm sure if is that I'm not worthy of her sharing it all this with me-not yet at least.  
"Well, I started working on cars when I was fifteen" I admit, remembering how Damon was the one who got me into this in the first place. He himself was working in a garage by that time and I never left his side-I was always somewhere near him, being the annoying younger brother, so he thought that if I'm going to waste my time, the least he could do is teach me something useful, which now is my profession. For him it was just a job at the time-later on he began working in a construction firm-he was really better at building things instead of repairing something. But working with cars was my thing-a passion and something which will always remind me of him, just like I guess playing the guitar was reminding her of someone special.  
"Is that your only passion?" she asks and I chuckle as I shake my head, wondering whether or not to tell her what's on my mind, afraid that she might think I'm an idiot. Not that the thought hasn't passed through her mind by now, but still.  
"Well, believe it or not" I begin shyly "I keep a journal." she laughs and I want to kick myself in the stomach for being so naïve with her yet again. Here-I knew it! She thought I'm a total idiot. A boy who keeps a journal-who even does that? God knows what's going in her mind right now. I frown at her laughing, not intentionally, I often get quite brooding and sad or appear angry and Lexi always told me I have to change that.  
"No, no, I keep one too" she explains and I stare in disbelief, figuring out that she must've been laughing, just because of this coincidence.  
"If I don't write it down.. I forget it." I try to explain myself though I probably just sound like a fool. She gives me a compassionate look as she stares into my green eyes  
"Memories are too important, don't you think?" she asks and I nod, happy that she manages to understand me better than myself-she's so good at expressing herself, she must be really good at writing as well. I wonder how deep and sad her own songs must be.  
"Yeah." I respond shyly, feeling a little bit too exposed now, though I don't know why, considering she saw me at my worse already.  
About 6:30 in the morning she decides it's time for her to go-she probably has to get to work soon and I feel bad for making herSTAY so late because of me.  
I get quite sad when she is ready to just jump off the table and disappear in a flash and I'm guessing she saw the sadness in my eyes, because she stops and gives me a caring look-I must still be looking so pathetic. I thank her again and she puts her hand on mine in a supportive way-it's the kindest gesture anyone has done for me in months. I ask for her number and I see how she's at first reluctant to give it to me but I guess once she takes another look at my pathetic appearance, she changes her mind, for which I'm glad.  
She offers to drive me home and I agree, even though the last place I wanna be is there. She helps me raise up and I put my hand on her shoulders-she smiles and it makes her feel uncomfortable, being so short and vulnerable so I hurry to reassure her that everything's fine.  
"Don't worry, I didn't see your smile" I promise and she doesn't look at me-I'm guessing she feels to exposed or embarrassed. We get outside slowly, but only after I insisted on paying our check, she tries to argue with my but I convince her that it's the least I could do.  
I have a hard time getting in my car and she notices it, but she doesn't scold me or say anything to make me feel uncomfortable-she only waits patiently until I can hop up in her old truck. It doesn't take us long to get to my place which is why I guess I feel so sad all of a sudden-maybe I'll never see her again, who knows if she even gave me the right number or if she'll pick up if I called her. I don't want us to separate, this night was the best thing that ever happened to me in ages and I know that now when it's over, I feel like crap all day and wish to drown myself in alcohol once it gets dark-I just can't bear the thought of Damon not being anywhere near me.  
"Thank you for driving me" I say once she pulls out in front of my place "And I'm sorry that I kept you awake for so long."  
"It's not a problem" she responds shyly and I feel how she's trying to distance herself from me again, probably having the same thoughts I did until now-it was a great evening, but now the day has settled in and reality was kicking us in the stomach, announcing its presence-it was over, we were back to being strangers. The moments we shared were now in the past and that hurt like hell  
"Just take care of yourself and go get that ankle checked up" she says again, concern evident in her voice, which makes me realize again how compassionate she is.  
"I'll be fine, I have to take a shower and get to work"  
"You can't go to work like that" she exclaims, quite pissed off at my behavior. I must look like a total immature idiot to her. "You need to rest"  
"I'll be fine, trust me" I reassure her "I've been far worse. I don't know how they haven't kicked me off this place already."  
"You must have a patient boss" she says and I smile  
"He was my brother's friend" I explain and she furrows her eyebrows as she notices that I speak in past tense. She's probably wondering what happened "He doesn't have much of a choice, so he bears with me and my hideous behavior." I get off the car and close the door, but I don't leave right away, instead I lean on the car window, which is opened up, since the weather is quite warm and this truck didn't have conditioning  
"I hope I can see you again, Elena."  
"Easy there, cowboy" she smiles as she tries to cut me off the kind way  
"Well even if I don't" I say, thinking that my suspicions from earlier will confirm and she'll probably just want to forget she ever met me "Thank you for this night" I try to sound sincere, I really am grateful for what she did. It's the first night in months when I don't end up in the emergency room, the police or in Lexi's house "It's the best one I've had in months."  
"I enjoyed myself as well" she says with a light smile, but I don't know if she's honest or just being polite.  
I limp back to my house and hear her leaving behind. I don't have the heart to turn around and look at her one last time-it hurts me, knowing that probably I won't see her again. My ankle is killing me-she was right, I should've listened to her, I don't know how I'll go to work today, but I will, because the possibility of me staying alone at home is simply unacceptable.  
I barely manage to get a shower, but somehow I succeed in it-it takes all the blood off my back. I get out and put on the only clean shirt and jeans I find-the boarding house is a mess. It was an enormous lonely mess that I lived in. Actually, lately, I've been spending all my nights outside, so I can't really say I was living here-all my clothes were dirty, my fridge was empty-Lexi would come here occasionally on a Sunday evening to check up on how drunk I am in my only free day and fill up my fridge, put my clothes in the washing machine and try to talk to me, but I usually was in no condition to do that, so she just waited patiently until I was too drunk to go to bed without fighting her and tugged me in-I hated everything about this house. It reminded me too much of Damon, of Katherine as well. I take a look at the clock in the big messy kitchen and notice that I still have some time until work so I hop up on the chair and sigh at the pain I feel in, then open up my diary, which I found out under the table-it didn't even bother me even if Lexi found it and read it-I was way past the time when I cared about this.  
Dear diary,  
I met a girl today, we talked, it was epic…It's the first time I felt good after Damon died, it's the first time when I didn't only exist, but actually lived. It was a regular night-I wanted to get drunk and forget Damon's face right before he left this earth. I wanted to forget about Katherine and the day she left me, so as usually, I wanted to just get my ass kicked. I wasn't trying to kill myself, you know, but fighting was just a means to getting me through the night-just like alcohol was. I usually lost¬ ¬consciousness and woke up somewhere else, but not this time. This time she was there to change this-she helped me. Her name is Elena and she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, but there's also some sadness in her eyes-I saw it. She's going through something big and whatever it is-it changed her in a way similar to me-I felt close to her even if we spent just a few hours together, she's the first person, who saw me as a person after Damon's death, and not just like a drunken mechanic idiot. I want to see her again. I doubt it will happen, though, she is most probably disgusted by me and my drunken beaten and broken state. I guess I should be used to it by now, losing everything I ever get close to-maybe it's better this way, she needs to find a better man, a better person than me. I'm sure one day she'll find it.  
I smile sadly to myself as I flip a few pages back at times when I was writing while I was still drunk and try hard to swallow my tears as I read about me and my brother and the last days we spent together.  
Dear diary,  
Damon is getting weaker with every passing day. I can't keep watching him like this-it's killing me. The doctor said he doesn't have much left and I have such a hard time getting in his room with a weak smile on my face trying to make him feel better. He isn't a fool though-he doesn't believe me, which is why today he said I have to start thinking about myself. Is he kidding me? Thinking about myself? What is there to think of? I was a twenty five year old guy with who just got divorced and who doesn't even have a stable job. He said I shouldn't cry much after he dies and I wanted to leave the room once he spoke those words, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me down on the chair-he was stern and very serious and said I have to listen to him good-he said he wants me to continue with my life the best way I could after he's gone, that I should get myself together and keep going to work and taking care of regular things. I laughed at him and pulled away-I couldn't watch him do this. I wouldn't let him. I left outside and cried in the hallway until one of the nurses took pity on me and helped me get up and clean myself. When I got back Damon was doing worse, I held his hand and watched him go through hell all night. I don't know how much I will be able to hold on, but I have to, for him. For as long as he's alive, I won't stop fighting, even though he has given up himself.  
I stopped reading-it makes me too damn angry, knowing that I was so helpless and couldn't do anything to anything for my brother. I toss the diary back on the floor and brush away my tears-I can't remember when I began crying so much.

_**Elena's P.O.V**_

"God dammit." He mumbles, burring his face in his hands. I know he is in extreme pain.

I look at him with compassion and lightly sigh.

I move the washcloth to his face, tending to the cuts there.

"Close your eyes, dumb ass." I say, still angry at him.

I can tell he is suppressing a chuckle while he closes his eyes.

I wipe the blood from his nose but it continues to bleed more.

I look around and see some napkins on a nearby table, I pick them up heading back to him.

Once back, I kneel down and twist the napkins so that they will fit his nose. I'm no nurse but I do know how to treat a nosebleed, my brother used to get them time and time again.

"Stick these in your nose." I order, he takes them from me and obeys.

I suppress the urge to make fun of him but knowing the current night he had, and his mood. I stop.

I gently grab his hand, standing up.

He looks down at our hands.

I furrow my brow and wait for him to stand up.

He reads my mind.

He stands up and tries to walk

I watch him, keeping a close eye, making sure he doesn't trip from being drunk.

He starts to walk but immediately stops and tripping backward.

I quickly grab his hand, to catch him.

He allows me, balancing on me.

I look down at his ankle, realizing he's in pain.

My first thought is doctor, I get him to the doctor, he'll be ok. I can leave and we can pretend like this never happened?

I lean down and pull up his pant leg, surveying the damage.

My eyes widen as I let out a slight gasp, shaking my head His ankle is swollen from the foot. He must of messed it up pretty bad, why did he do this? I internally sigh.

"Well it's way too swollen." I say in a concerned voice after a moment.

"I'm fine." He grits his teeth.

He pulls away from me, stubbornly to show me, how "fine" he is. I mentally shake my head and prepare to catch him as he falls. He starts to move, gripping the edge of a bar table for support.

I watch him, wanting to slap him in the face for being so stubborn.

He was practically one of the most stubborn person I have ever met.

"You're not." I say, crossing my arms over my chest, giving him a pointed look.

"We need to get you to a doctor." I say, raising my voice.

"No way. I don't need a doctor, and you should go home, it's late." He says calmly, limping away.

I want to tell him how pathetic he is acting but I refrain myself. How was I supposed to help him if he wouldn't let me? I begin to grow frustrated.

He limps to a nearby table where a unfinished beer is, I watch in disbelief as he raises it to his lips, wanting to finish it.

I march over to the table and grab it from his hands.

My expression could cut knives, I'm aggravated.

"Seriously?" I yell, jerking the beer out his hand and putting it on another table, it's a miracle I didn't break the glass.

"You can't walk straight and you want to drink right now?" I question him, seething with anger.

I look up at his expression to see him smiling at me.

I glare at him, growing more pissed off by the second.

"It will help with the pain." He tries to explain to me but seeing my expression of hate, he stops and starts to limb to the door.

I let go of my grudge and hurry to him, grabbing his elbow.

"I'm fine." He starts to say but I cut him off, annoyed.

"Will you stop saying that? We need to get you to a doctor." I say in a gentler voice.

"Your eye is swollen as well." I notice but I think he already knew because he shut his eye quick.

"I don't need a hospital! All the emergency rooms know me by name, already."

I can see he is beyond irritated but I'm not about to give up. Why would they know him by name? Is this a nightly ritual?

"At least let me give you a ride home." I say, hoping he'd say yes and be done with it.

I get him to the front of the bar with ease.

"No." He says coldly and I look at him confused.

What was the guy's problem, I'm just trying to help.

His expression softens when he notices by disgusted face.

"I don't want to go home." He adds, and I know it's the end of that conversation.

I silently take him in, his greasy shirt, pants, hands, disheveled hair, sunken form.

What has made him like this? What cruel things has this world done to him?

"There's a small diner just around the corner." He suddenly suggest.

And I almost smile at the irony, me turning him down and then saying yes the next second..

He notices the expression on my face.

"Look just let me repay you for taking care of me." he says.

I study him for a moment, he has put me through one hell of a night and all that worry and stress and fighting has made me hungry.

"That is if you're not ashamed of me to go, looking like this." He says with a gentle smile.

When he smiles, something in me relaxes. I offer him a small smile.

"I promise I'm not some creep, I just want to apologize for being rude earlier. I know you only wanted to help ."

I knew he wasn't going to hurt me, but something in me wanted to say no. No, I won't go out with you. I repeat the words in my head but then I think about the night he's had, my compassion comes to play. I guess one burger and coffee couldn't hurt. Just tonight. I remind myself.

"Okay." I finally say, taking his hand in mine to help him out of the bar.

Once we get out of the bar, he steady's himself on me, and we walk to the diner. A couple of paces in he stops, holding his breath and I can tell the pain is eating him alive. Should of went to the doctor, idiot. I scold him in my head but still offer him a sympathetic look.

"I never caught your name, you kind, compassionate, stranger." He says, looking over at me.

I giggle.

The noise that just came out of my mouth surprises me, I never giggle, he must think I'm some sort of ditz now.

"It's Elena." I say, shyly.

Why was I acting this way? this guy should mean nothing to me.

His hand is warm in mine, I ignore these oncoming feelings I'm beginning to feel and help him walk a few feet more.

He stops abruptly to stare at me.

I don't dare acknowledge is staring because it starts to make me feel uncomfortable. I could not tell what he was thinking and it was driving me crazy. He was staring at me like I was the last drop in the ocean and he was desperate to drown. I looked at him, furrowing my eyebrow, begging for him to stop looking at me like this.

He just nods and smiles.

When he smiles, again I feel my hand relax in his.

He makes me feel... I search the words in my mind.

Safe.

Why are you acting this way? I beg my mind.

"It's nice to meet you, Elena." He says.

I just nod and mentally sigh in relief as we get to the diner.

He instantly waves at the oncoming waitress.

She recognizes him and lets out a sigh shaking her head.

Suddenly the answer to my question becomes clear: this was a nightly ritual.

Stefan quickly orders a burger and I agree my stomach grumbling loud with hunger.

A burger and fries sounds so prefect right now.

We sit down at a corner table, away from the drunks that are trying to sober up at 4 in the morning and as soon as we pull apart for each other, my hand instantly feels cold from the loss of contact.

It's an awkward silence and I search my head for a conversation, I decide to state the obvious and satisfy my curiosity of this mystery man.

"Well she didn't seem surprised to see you like this." I say.

He glances at me for a second and then shrugs his shoulders.

He picks up a fry and starts to eat.

I decide its time to eat and pick up my burger, taking a big bite.

"I often come here after I have been drinking all night. They know me good in this neighborhood." He jokes.

"Do you work here, somewhere?" I ask, curious of his appearance. But also, I didn't want to talk about me, nobody has to know about my problems. They don't matter anyway.

"Yeah. I'm a mechanic as you might of guessed." He looks down at his greasy shirt and his filthy hands.

"A simple guy with a simple job." He says, sadly.

I crease my eyebrows, immediately disagreeing with him.

"There's no shame in what you're doing. You're earning a living with hard work, I can't imagine why anyone would judge you for that."

He quirks an eyebrow at me, smiling softly.

"You, Elena Gilbert are wise beyond your years."

"So I'm told." I say, giving him a soft smile.

"What about you? What do you do?" He asks, looking over at me.

"Well, I play the guitar, write music, on the weekends I work at a office, a secretary."

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, but I can tell he's hiding a smile.

"A rock star Secretary? Never heard of such thing."

I laugh, lightly.

"Well, it pays the bills." I say.

He nods, understanding what I meant.

I take another bite of my burger, not sure what to say to him anymore, it's been awhile since I have talked to anyone like this.

"When did you start playing guitar?" He asks, dipping some fries in ketchup.

I close my eyes for a second.

Why did he have to ask that question?

I will myself to calm down, he probably thinks I'm some freak now who can't talk about anything.

He notices my expression, understanding.

"Sorry, if I crossed a line." He says, quietly.

I shake my head.

"No, it's fine. I was eleven."

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Eleven?" he repeats, dumbfounded

I want to smile but stop it.

"Yes, eleven." I confirm.

"Wow." He says, impressed.

"Music always helped with a lot of things." I say, picking and choosing my words, he didn't need to know about all the baggage I had under this fake smile.

He nods.

"Well, I started working on cars when I was fifteen." He states.

I smile. "Is that your only passion?" I find myself asking.

"Well believe it or not, I keep a journal."

My skin grows cold.

I laugh, not out of stupidity but of the irony.

He stops smiling, and frowns a little at my laughing.

"No, No. I keep one too." I exclaim.

He stares at me in disbelief.

"If I don't write it down.. I forget it."

I cock my head to look at him from a sideways angle.

"Memories are too important, don't you think?" I ask, feeling like a fool for asking such a deep question.

He surprises me with a gentle smile, but I see his eyes crinkle in the corner, knowing it was a genuine smile.

"Yeah." He says shyly.

I smile small, entertained at the idea that he also keeps a journal.

My eyes drift to from his face to the clock on the wall.

6:30 am it reads.

My face falls, I have work in a couple hours.

"I have work soon, I better go." I blurt out, instantly feeling bad when his face falls in a sad manner.

He looks me in the eyes, his green eyes burning into me.

I almost lose my breath.

"Well, thank you again, Elena." He says, taking me by surprise.

I nod and reach out to touch his hand again.

"Take care of yourself, Stefan." I whisper, quietly, meaning it.

He gives me a crooked smile.

"I will... " He trails off, lost in thought, I supposed.

I feel bad for leaving him there, but I had to salvage some sleep for today, even just two hours, I was exhausted. I just hoped I'd be able to sleep tonight, usually I had terrifying nightmares about my parent's car crash, their bloody faces etched into my brain, telling me it's all my fault.

I shudder at the thought and still notice he's staring at me.

"Would it be weird if I asked for your number?" He asks.

I start to shake my head yes but then I stop. It won't hurt to give me his number, besides I wanted to check up on him, anyways.

"Hey, let me give you a ride home before I dip, I don't want you walking on that ankle." I suggest.

In my surprise he nods, slowly.

I quickly scribble my digits on a napkin from the dispenser and hand it to him.

I stand up and take his warm hand in mine, pulling him towards me.

He responds automatically and I try to hide the smile on my face.

Once he's up and leaned against me, we start walking to the door.

He chuckles down at me, and I don't look up to see why.

Sometimes I hated being so short.

"Don't worry, I didn't see you smile." He whispers, close to my ear.

I just keep looking at the door, walking past it, with him, refusing to meet his eyes, but when he says this, an unexplainable rush goes right through me.

It's the first time in months I feel this good.

And it's all thanks to him.

_He pays for the bill and I almost refuse him, he can't pay for my meal, it just won't be right._

_I decide to let him and make a mental note to pay him back._

_I pull him closer to me, helping him out the door._

_We get to my dirty old truck and I'm instantly embarrassed of the sight of it._

_I'm praying he doesn't start asking questions._

_I open the door for him and go around the other side to get in._

_I get in my car, moving around some things so I can see where I am going where I'm driving._

_God, I'm such a slob, he must be thinking._

_I see him struggling to get in._

_I wait for him, patiently, not nagging him, for once._

_It was choice to not go to the doctor's and I respect it._

_He tells me the address and we drive there in silence, I see the sun begin to rise and smile to myself._

_Then thought dawned on me: Time was robbing me and Stefan, I knew some where deep inside me, I wanted to see him again, my heart said yes, but my mind reminded me of the repercussions. Reality was setting in, love doesn't exist. I remind myself._

_I'm so lost in my thoughts I don't realize that were at Stefan's huge house. _

_I glanced at the big boarding house._

_Wow.. what a big house._

_I turn to him, seeing his broody expression._

_I want to ask him if he's ok but I refrain myself._

"_Thanks for driving me." He says, finally breaking the awkward silence._

"_It's not a problem." I say, shyly. I hope he doesn't notice that- I'd hate for him to think I'm distancing myself on purpose, it's just how I deal with things now- distance yourself, don't feel anything, nobody cares anyways. _

"_Just take care of yourself and get that ankle checked up." I concern secretly hoping he will._

"_I'll be fine, I have to take a shower and get to work."_

_And here we go, back to stubborn Stefan._

"_You can't go to work like that." I declare, getting a little pissed_

_This guy was crazy if he thinks he can fix cars on that ankle._

"_You need rest." I add, looking into his eyes, gently._

"_I'll be fine, trust me, I've done worse." He says._

_It makes me wonder how messed up his body is, what scars he has.. _

"_I don't know how they haven't kicked me off the place, already."_

"_You must have one patient boss." I say, a smile threatening to appear on my face._

"_He was my brother's friend." He explains._

_I catch the word was, what happened to his brother? I decide not to push it, because he hasn't pushed me at all and I really respected him for that._

_He gets out of the car, and I watch him_

_Goodbye. I whisper to myself._

_I'm about to drive off when I see he's outside the passenger door, leaning on it._

_I catch his eyes on me, I am startled for what he says next._

"_I hope I can see you again, Elena."_

_I smile despite myself. _

"_Easy there cowboy." I tease, but after, I worry he thinks I actually meant it._

"_Well even if I don't thank you for this night." He says with sincerity_

_My heart bursts in joy at his words. _

"_I enjoyed myself as well." I say earnestly with a light smile._

_Because it was true, I had a great time, probably the best time in months, but now I have to get back to the real world. I'm just a girl with dead parents and too many scars, too messed up to love. _

_He walks away after that, and I feel the joy start to fade. _

_I watch him go into his house, the sadness creeping back into my heart. I know this is not what my parents would want but I carry so much guilt, no one else needs to be burdened with it._

_I drive home, back to my apartment, I warm up some tea and sit on the couch, lost in my thoughts, I begin to write in my journal:_

_Dear Diary._

_Today I met a guy, we talked, it was epic.. but then reality set in, love doesn't heal problems, faults don't disappear with true love , how can I love someone else when I cannot even love myself, can't even forgive myself? I'm glad I have you diary, I don't know how I would get through the night, without writing anything._

_Suddenly, I stop writing and flip to a page I marked:_

_Dear Diary: me and Matt broke up, it's for the best I tell myself. No one can love someone with such grief, I cry every day, I can't help it, I'm just so emotional. I know it's been awhile and Matt always said he would help me. He has tried, lord has he tried, But I keep pushing him away. I don't need him, I keep telling myself. No one can love someone so messed up. I still remember the last thing he said to me: "No one will love you with such heartache" _

_And I have to agree, there's too much-_

_I stop reading and wipe a tear from my eye, I look up at the clock and realize it's 7:30. Time for work. I throw my long hair up in a bun and put on some makeup, hiding the dark circles under my eyes from sleepless nights. I pull on my blouse and skirt, straightening it so it looks nice. I give the mirror my best fake smile. _

_I grab my keys from the counter and walk out the door, making sure to lock it._

_As soon as I get into my truck, I close the door, popping in some tunes._

_I put the key into the ignition, starting it up._

_My engine grumbles in frustration and I sigh._

_I try it again, after a few failed attempts I realize that the engine won't be coming back to life anytime soon. _

_I grumble and grab my phone._

_Great, I didn't have a mechanic- my thoughts float back to Stefan._

_Looks like I was going to see him again._


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the late update! more to come :)

"Wow." I say out-loud, not believing the odds today.

I grab the napkin, he wrote his number on and dial it, praying he picks up.

"Dicky's auto shop." His voice answers.

I smile in the phone.

"Hello, I'm looking for a Stefan Salvatore, I believe he fixes cars." I say, teasing him to lighten the mood.

I hear him chuckle and it relaxes me.

"Yes, this is him." He says, going along with my joke.

"So, remember my disgusting truck?" I ask.

"of course." he says.

"Well it kind of broke down and I'm going to be late for work."

"That sucks." He says.

"Yeah, I know, any chance you have time to fix it?" I ask, hopeful.

I can hear him smiling through the phone. "Yeah, sure let me grab the tow truck and I'll meet you there."

"Okay." I say.

"Bye." He says, hanging up.

I wait all but five minutes until I hear a honk, I look out my dusty window to see Stefan and his tow truck behind me.

He gets out and I hate to admit it but looks devastatingly handsome in his green t-shirt and black jeans. He greet mes in a cute way, even though I hate to admit it.

"That was fast." I comment.

He just smile at me.

I can't help but smile back.

"Let me just hook you up." he says, but I can he is in pain from his ankle.

"here, let's play student and teacher." I suggest, getting out and standing next to him.

He furrows his brows at me in confusion.

"Tell me how to tow someone." I add, smiling up at him.

"Ok, first you take the chord." He shows it to me and I listen intently.

"And you hook it up to this part right here." He says, gently laying his hand over mine, to guide me where to hook it.

I hide my blushing.

I hear a click and I know it's in, I quickly pull away but give him a smile.

"Thank you." I say, meaning it.

"I figured I owed you one, you know since you babysat me last night." he says, limping back to his truck.

I follow him, suppressing a giggle.

"Well, thank you anyways." I say sincerely.

We climb into his truck and he starts the engine, glancing over at me.

"You're always welcome, Elena." He says.

I look out the window, secretly smiling to myself.

Somewhere in the back of my mind a sentence echos

"Maybe this is reality."

_**Stefan**_

My boss furrows his eyebrows at my limping, but doesn't say anything-I know he's been too patient with me, and he'll probably cut off some of my salary at the end of the month for being late again, but he won't fire me, at least I hope so. Just after I've began working on an old truck, I hear the phone ring and limp to get it, since everyone else are too busy and I'm the one closest to it._  
"_Dicky's auto shop." I grunt unpleasantly because of the pain in my leg which is getting worse, contrary to what I thought it should be by now._  
"_Hello, I'm looking for a Stefan Salvatore, I believe he fixes cars." I hear her voice and my breath gets stuck in my throat. I can't believe this is happening. We only separated a couple of hours ago and I thought I'll never see her again. Okay, let's take a deep breath-her calling doesn't mean anything._  
"_Yes, this is him." I continue with her joke because it makes me actually smile and I've forgotten what this feels like_  
"_So, you remember my disgusting truck? she asks and I let a small laugh out_  
"_Of course" I remember everything about her. Every little thing, even if I was so drunk back then._  
"_Well it kind of broke down and I'm going to be late for work."

Well that explains why she's calling. I'm sure she wasn't eager to do that, but she remembered I was a mechanic and she needed help so she decided to call me. I have absolutely nothing against it of course, if it means that I'll get to see her again._**  
"**_That sucks." I respond realizing how stupid it sounds, but I say it nonetheless because I'm an idiot.**_  
"_**Yeah, I know, any chance you have time to fix it." I distinguish her hopeful optimistic voice and the next thing I know, I promise that I'm going to get in my tow truck andget to her as soon as I can. When I arrive at the address she gave me she looks surprised that I'm here so soon. I limp myself out of the truck but she sees that I have a hard time doing my job so she decides to play a game and let me teach her what to do. When our hands touch once I'm trying to show her where to put the hook, I feel this strange electricity go through me and I swear I caught her staring at me intensely while I was looking down her broken truck and applying pressure to the hook so she could do it right. When I let her go, she looks around us uncomfortably, feeling as if she did something wrong here, when in reality this is the closest I've felt to anyone in such a long time. I see her blush and I want to tease her, but my heart doesn't allow me to-I don't want to offend her in anyway. I don't want to be some idiot who does all those things to girls, annoys them and thinks how great he is-this is stupid, I can't be like that. Not with her._**  
**_I drive her to work and get outside to say goodbye.


End file.
